


Don't Accept Drinks From Strangers

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, what's wrong with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: America, England and France are getting sick of Germany and Italy refusing to accept their feelings for each other, so they decide to try a little something to get things moving...EDIT: I went back in and made it less rushed, so hopefully it should be a little better.





	Don't Accept Drinks From Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> A little less shitty than it was before.

“I’ve had enough,” England announced suddenly one morning, “I can’t even stand to watch it anymore.”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” America asked, a mouth full of hamburger. France winced as some of it flew out of his mouth and onto the conference table. The three nations were preparing for a World Meeting, huddled at the end of the table like schoolgirls.

“Germany and Italy,” England scowled, glaring at the table as if somehow it would make the problem go away, “They keep dancing around each other, even though it’s incredibly obvious how they feel,”

America _“Ohhh”_ d while France nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean. I’ve wanted to yell at them ever since the World Wars.”

“Well, obviously we need to do something about it,” America said, and promptly took a bite of his burger. The three nations fell silent for a few moments before suddenly a devilish smirk spread across England's face.  "I know just the thing," He announced, "I'll be right back," With that, England stood up out of his chair and swiftly left the room, slamming the large wooden doors behind him.

About half-an-hour later, he returned with a small bottle of liquid.

"Took you long enough," France commented, but England chose to ignore it, just this once. "Here we are," He said proudly, setting it down on the table in front of the other two. "It's an aphrodisiac,"

America made a weird choking sound in the back of his throat. " _What_?"

England rolled his eyes and began to explain, "Y'know, an aphrodisiac? If you consume it-"

"No, I know what an aphrodisiac is, I'm not dumb," America interrupted.  "You just shocked me, is all,"

"I see where you're coming from, Angleterre," France cut in, picking up the bottle and examining it intently. "But how do we get Italy to drink it?"

"Put it in food?" England suggested with a shrug. "I can make-"

"No!" Both nations yelled at the same time. France shook his head and set the bottle down. "Italy's very picky, and there's no way he'll touch your stuff. And besides, if we gave only him food, it would look suspicious." America snapped his fingers and sat up. "I know! Y'know how when we have meetings at Germany's place, we always get a bottle of water when we walk in?" When the other two nodded, he continued, "Why don't we put it in a specific water bottle and give it to him? That way, he'll drink it without realizing!"

"Wow, that's actually a smart idea," England complimented. "France, go get bottles of water. I think there's a kitchen in this building somewhere; perhaps you can find a pack?" France looked like he was about to object to being bossed around, but apparently thought better of it and left.

France returned with a large pack of water bottles and pulled out the first one he saw. Uncapping it, he handed it to England. England put in only a bit, setting the bottle down. "That should do the trick," Before he could reach for the cap, America seized the rest of the aphrodisiac and poured the rest of it into the water bottle. "America!" England snapped, glaring at the younger nation. "We want to make sure it _really_ works, don't we? " America grinned. “I suppose,” England muttered, and capped the water bottle.

 

A few hours later, France handed water bottles to the other nations as they filed in, craning his neck to see when Italy would walk in.  After what seemed like forever, Italy skipped in, with Germany trailing behind him. France handed him the very _special_ water bottle, which Italy happily took from him with a “Grazie” and took his seat. The meeting went on like normal, but the three countries made eye contact every time they noticed Italy sip from the water. It was a look of pure evil joy shared between them.

After the meeting was over, America, England, and France stayed behind to clean up. “I sure do hope this works,” England admitted. “I don’t make stuff like that often. I suppose we’ll see at tomorrow's meeting, yes?”

 

Italy and Germany returned home, with Italy immediately announcing that he was going to make Germany pasta while the latter worked on paperwork for tomorrow's meeting. Italy immediately got to work, chopping tomatoes and rolling dough for the spaghetti, humming quietly to himself.

After a few minutes, however, Italy felt a strange heat rush through his body, immediately heading for his nether regions. Italy dropped the spoon with a clatter and gripped the counter, clothes suddenly stimulating him so much it almost _hurt_. Desperate to relieve himself, Italy stripped off all his clothing, but the feeling still didn't subside. Panicked, Italy ran up to stairs for the only source of comfort he had in the house, swinging open the door and almost falling over in the process. "Germany! I-" Italy stumbled over to Germany's desk, throwing himself into the very shocked Germany's lap. Italy looked up at Germany, with wide, desperate eyes, rambling, "I-I something's wrong, t-there's something wrong with m-me, I-I-I need-"

'Wait, slow down, what's wrong with you? Why are you naked?" Germany tried to ask over Italy's frantic speech, with no such luck. Germany's face was laced with concern now, trying to figure out how to calm the Italian down.  "I need-" Italy repeated, eyes widening as it finally hit him what the feeling was. "I need _you!_ " 

Germany froze, a dark red blush that started from his neck spreading up to his face. "W-What?" 

"Please, Germany! Germany-" Italy's mind was completely clouded and could barely register what was going on, only that he was _oh_ ,  _so turned on, and he needed it so bad, oh god-_ "Please, I'm gonna go crazy!"

Meanwhile, Germany just stared at the pleading Italian, his mind fighting with itself. He knew that there was something wrong with Italy, to make him like this, and that he probably shouldn't take advantage of him, but Italy looked so helpless and he'd been in love with the Italian for so long, how could he not?

Hesitantly, he grabbed Italy's hips, making the smaller man gasp, and lifted him off his lap. Slinging Italy over his shoulder, Germany carried him to the bedroom next door and deposited him gently down on the bed, crawling over him, teary, honey-colored eyes pleading with him to get on with it already. Germany leaned forward and began to kiss gently down his neck, causing loud whimpers from the Italian. "Are you sensitive all over?" Germany asked, biting down on the side of Italy's neck. "Ah, yes, yes!" Italy confirmed, tilting his head back as a silent invitation keep biting. 

"Germany, I can't wait!" Italy practically sobbed, gently hitting Germany's back for his attention, "I need you to fuck me, please!" 

Germany very visibly shuddered. "Get-" Germany paused to clear his throat, as his voice was husky and gave away his lust, "Get on your stomach," Italy breathed a sigh of relief and rolled onto his stomach, turning his head to watch the German behind him unzip his trousers and pull out his erection, which had previously been painfully straining against his pants. He reached over to grab a bottle of lube from his side drawer and pour a copious amount into his palm. 

Once he decided that he lubed himself up enough, he reached his hands under Italy to coax him to lift his hips into the air. "Are you ready, Italy?"

Italy frantically nodded and added a "mhhmmm" as if to prove his point. Germany gripped Italy's thin waist and very slowly slid into him, who rewarded him with a loud, high-pitched moan. 

"Oh Gott, you feel so good..." Germany groaned, beginning to slowly thrust in out of the Italian, who was gripping the sheets and letting out little ' _m_ _mm'_ s. "Ger..Germany...please, go faster..." 

Germany took Italy's request as a command and sped up his hips. At a particularly loud moan, Germany realized he had found Italy's prostate and focused on thrusting in the same direction. He leaned over Italy so his chest almost touched his back and whispered, "I don't think you realize what you do to me," he murmured in Italy's ear. "Do you?" Italy shook his head and tightened his grip on the bed sheets as Germany put more power behind his thrusts. 

"See? When you bite your lip like you are now, you make me want to bend you over the table and fuck you. It drives me off the wall during meetings. And when you pout and say my name that way when you want something, and don't get me started on when you wear my clothes...Now I'm going to make you pay by fucking you so hard that you won't be able to walk properly," 

Italy only responded with moans, tears starting to well up and roll down his flushed cheeks. Germany bit down on Italy's shoulder for balance and slammed in ever harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming increasingly louder. 

"Germany, I'm gonna cum soon!" Italy announced, his eyes rolled back into their sockets as Germany rammed into his prostate again and again. "Cum for me, Italy," Germany let go of his shoulder to mutter, and Italy came with a scream of Germany's name. Germany followed suit, keeping their bodies aligned as he filled Italy to the brim with his cum.

"Ohh, you're filling me, so warm, feels so nice..." Italy sleepily mumbled, slipping his eyes shut. Once he was finished, Germany pulled out with a noise of disapproval from Italy. With the absence of his cock, creamy white liquid flowed down the Italian's thighs.

Italy sank to the bed and rolled over. "Wow, you came a lot, Germany!" He commented. He giggled as Germany's face went bright red and he stuttered out an "S-Sorry..."

Italy responded by kissing Germany on the cheek and crawling into his lap. "I love you, Germany..." Italy rested his head on the German's shoulder, closing his eyes.

"I love you, too," Germany whispered, returning the Italian's hug as the smaller nation wrapped around him like a koala. "But what made you so..."

Italy pulled back to make eye contact with Germany and shrug. "I don't know, maybe I ate something funny," Before Germany could answer, he added, "I'm tired..." 

"I bet you are," Germany mumbled, setting the Italian gently down on the bed and laying down next to him, turning and holding out his arms. Italy smiled sleepily and snuggled into Germany, wrapping his legs around the German's waist with a content sigh. Germany softly smiled as he felt Italy fall asleep almost instantly, before letting sleep claim him as well.

 

Sure enough, when the G8 meeting that morning began, Germany arrived on time carrying Italy in bridal style and had very gently deposited him into his chair, whispering something to him before taking his seat next to him. And the trio couldn't help but notice that Italy shifted in his chair much more than usual as if he couldn't sit properly.  

The three were undoubtedly proud of themselves until they let it slip a few days later what they had done, which Germany indeed was _not_  very happy about.


End file.
